Nobody With Me At Sea But Myself.

While Resignation Gently Slopes Away, And All His Prospects Brightening To The Last, His Heaven Commences Ere The World Be Past.

Good People All, With One Accord, Lament For Madam Blaize, Who Never Wanted A Good Word From Those Who Spoke Her Praise.

Popular Glory Is A Perfect Coquette; Her Lovers Must Toil, Feel Every Inquietude, Indulge Every Caprice, And Perhaps At Last Be Jilted Into The Bargain. True Glory, On The Other Hand, Resembles A Woman Of Sense; Her Admirers Must Play No Tricks. They Feel No Great Anxiety, For They Are Sure In The End Of Being Rewarded In Proportion To Their Merit.

The Fortunate Circumstances Of Our Lives Are Generally Found, At Last, To Be Of Our Own Producing.

All That A Husband Or Wife Really Wants Is To Be Pitied A Little, Praised A Little, And Appreciated A Little.